


Blue

by Dain



Series: trans girl zuko [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen, Misgendering, Self-Harm, Trans Character, Transmisogyny, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dain/pseuds/Dain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko lies through her teeth and tells Uncle that she’s a boy. The words taste cold and ashen in her mouth, and she can’t tell if he believes her or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Not a particularly happy story, as you may have guessed from the tags. The self harm is only mentioned once, but it is still there. There's a smattering of hints and references towards different relationships, though none of them are at all central to the story, and almost all of them can easily be read as friendships, if you'd like.

Zuko tells Azula that they’re sisters when Azula is seven and Zuko is nine. Azula doesn’t understand why she makes such a point of it. At this age, she assumes that ‘prince’ denotes age, the few times their father and grandfather address Zuko by her title; she misses the quiet _Princess Zuko_ s that fall from their mother’s lips.

By the time their mother vanishes and Zuko’s long hair is tied into a masculine style, Azula has made sense of the discrepancies in the ways different people treat her sister. She chooses to follow their father’s lead, and Zuko thinks that she’s forgotten everything.

She never does.

When Uncle Iroh finally, _finally_ returns home, he is surprised to find his eldest niece dressed as a prince. He hasn’t seen her in some time, but Ursa’s letters had never indicated a change in her child’s gender, so he wonders. He eventually decides to ask Zuko, quietly, gently.

Zuko lies through her teeth and tells Uncle that she’s a boy. The words taste cold and ashen in her mouth, and she can’t tell if he believes her or not.

Zuko’s father spits the word _prince_ at her like a whip in the Agni Kai chamber, but it’s nothing she hasn't heard before, and the pain of the burn wipes out everything else. She isn’t surprised when he doesn’t visit her in the infirmary, and she’s whisked away to exile before the burn heals properly.

Uncle accompanies her, for some reason. She has a vague memory of an explanation, but it’s hazy with pain and medication. The left side of her head has been shaved, to aid the healers in their work, and she chooses to even it out, though the boyish ponytail remains intact. It’s easy to throw herself into the rhythm of life at sea, and she forces herself to forget everything but her duty. The Avatar consumes her life and there is no room for pain or regret (so she tells herself).

A blue mask finds its way into her possession, a silly, sentimental whim leading her to take it off of a cart. It reminds her of the theatrical masks her mother liked to hang on the walls. She keeps it tucked away, out of sight of the rest of the crew, her own little secret.

She captures the Avatar but loses him almost immediately. Her failure hits her hard, but still, the hope that had almost died is rekindled: the Avatar is still out there. She has a chance to regain her honor and go home. For a moment, before she can stop herself, she entertains the thought of being welcomed home as the Crown Princess. She dismisses this thought almost immediately. It will do her no good.

But still, this thought opens a rush of emotion and disappointment that she had been trying to keep secret. She is still able to hide it, but now her dreams are as uneasy as they were three years ago, and her fingertips burn circles into her arms in the hours before sleep. She wears long sleeves no matter how warm the weather.

The Blue Spirit is born soon after the incident at the South Pole, and when the mask is covering her scar, she’s allowed to pretend that her mother is near, just out of reach around a corner or behind a door. Nothing has changed, and she and Azula are sisters again, playing in the gardens. The scenes she imagines are more idyllic than her childhood ever truly was, but while the mask is on, she revels in them.

She almost dies at the North Pole, several times over, and after her latest failure she can do little but lie on the makeshift raft Uncle had pieced together and stare at the sky.

She loses weight, and if she’d ever had hips, she certainly doesn’t have them now. Being a refugee is difficult, but she’s recovered from her bout of lethargy aboard the raft, and she repeats her own words to herself as a mantra: _I’ve always had to struggle, I’ve always had to struggle, I’ve always had to struggle_.

The ponytail remains behind as she and Uncle journey on.

Song is gentle and kind, but not very good with personal boundaries. Traits of a healer, Zuko supposes. She refuses to admit that she likes her.

Zuko offers her dagger to a young boy, who refuses it. She had introduced herself to the town as Prince Zuko, and she leaves it with a bitter taste in her mouth.

The great city of Ba Sing Se is a prison of air and walls, and Zuko finds herself missing the sea. The vast expanse of water had seemed limitless, while the city, for all its size, is nothing but limitations and restrictions. She feels penned in, controlled, like livestock. Her hair continues to grow.

Jin is almost too wonderful, and Zuko wonders if she could fall in love with this cheerful, optimistic Earth Kingdom girl. She decides, in the end, that Prince Zuko couldn’t, but Princess Zuko has a chance. She runs away from Jin after they kiss.

The Blue Spirit drowns in Lake Laogai, and before they leave, Zuko whispers the truth to Uncle. He smiles warmly at her and touches her shoulder, a comforting weight that she leans into. She feels lighter than she has in years.

The first time he calls her Princess Zuko, she feels ready to burst with happiness and fear.

The waterbender – Katara – rages at her amongst the crystals, and Zuko doesn’t have the energy to fight back. She offers what little comfort and companionship that she can, without knowing quite why, and to her surprise, it is accepted; the incident with the boy and the dagger is not repeated. She tells Katara what she remembers of her mother, and Katara responds in like, and their glittering green prison feels strangely open.

Azula arrives, and the feeling is shattered. Zuko welcomes her old fetters with open arms, though nothing about the moment could be described as happy.

There is no one left at home to call her princess, and Zuko finds herself spending most of her time in her room or with Mai. The palace feels dead and empty; Zuko’s hair is nearing its old length, the girlish cut she had once more or less shared with Azula. Their mother’s masks have been removed from the walls, and Zuko does not ask after them, though she sorely wants to.

“I know you,” Ty Lee says, and Zuko shouts at her because she doesn’t know what else to do. Of course Ty Lee remembers.

Leaving is shockingly easy. All it takes is the confusion of the eclipse and a bag thrown over her shoulder. She remembers to bring a tea set, because Uncle will want one, and it’s the only tangible show of appreciation she can think of. The palace is quiet and deserted as she makes her way to the bunker.

The confrontation with her father is short and violent, and for a moment, while the lightning crackles around her, she fears she will not leave the room. It’s the first time in years that she has feared for her life because of a desire to live instead of a desire to succeed, and it is that moment of clarity and fear that gives her the strength to push the energy back towards the dais. She doesn’t wait to see if her father was injured.

Convincing the Avatar to trust her takes a while, but in the end it’s almost too easy. These children – she doesn’t think of herself as a child – are too easily swayed, too wide-eyed and optimistic. Katara is the only one who truly possesses the vitriol towards her that Zuko had expected, and it bothers her more than she’d thought it would. She remembers the cave, the crystals, the confessions, and she aches to fix the mistakes she made in those chambers under the city. But all she has to work with is the present, and the present seems unwilling to mold to her desires.

It isn’t until one night a short while after they meet the dragons that Zuko tells one of her new companions that she’s a girl. She doesn’t mean for it to come out, but it’s late at night and she and Aang are up late, alone, talking by the dying fire. The words slip out between her lips with ease, and Aang nods as he listens. They don’t talk for a while after Zuko finishes her story – or perhaps it’s more of an explanation – but it’s not a silence of rejection or discomfort; Aang smiles at her and she smiles back, and it’s hard to believe that this is the same child she once thought of as a goal to be achieved. Aang is warm and full of life, and Zuko thinks that she would follow him anywhere.

Katara does forgive her, eventually, and that means more to her than she could have expected. The threat and exhilaration of the approaching comet hangs on the horizon, hot and heavy, and she waits with ever-growing impatience to see its light fill the sky.

“I’m sorry it has to end this way, sister,” Azula snarls, and Zuko can’t help the rush of affection for her, even if she knows Azula doesn’t feel the same way. (She is wrong; Azula does. Azula loves her sister fiercely, but it is not the sort of love that Zuko craves. Azula will not allow it to be.)

Zuko tells Katara everything after the Agni Kai, while the pain of lightning is still wracking her body. The danger has passed, thanks to the waterbender, but much of the damage is still there. Zuko’s voice is hoarse as she explains.

Aang stands beside her before the gathered nations, small selections of representatives whose cheers do not mean that the world will be easily soothed. Still, Aang is on her right and Katara smiles up at them, clearly visible in the crowd, and Zuko doesn’t bother to fight the upswell of optimism that things will work out, one way or another.

That evening, she commissions a gown, something simple but formal that she can wear to events that don’t necessitate her presence as Fire Lord. She asks for a touch of blue to be incorporated into the design, and ignores the tailor’s surprise.

She cannot honor her mother in nothing but red.


End file.
